Sandman
by k4writer02
Summary: The old Santiago would’ve gotten in Devin’s car; the new one—the Sandman—doesn’t. An introspective filler fic for “Who Do You Think You Are.”


Title: Sandman

Author: Kate, k4writer02

Fandom: Friday Night Lights

Characters: Santiago Herrera, Devin Diablo (according to IMDB that is his full name), Julie Taylor (only a cameo), Buddy Garrity (mentioned), Tim Riggins (mentioned), Lyla Garrity (mentioned)

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I disclaim!

Words: 1186

Summary: The old Santiago would've gotten in Devin's car; the new one—the Sandman—doesn't. An introspective filler fic for "Who Do You Think You Are."

Santiago's crossing the parking lot, when all of a sudden, like lightning, Devin's there, in a battered red lowrider convertible, and out of juvie, waving at him, trying to get him to blow off this life that doesn't feel like it can really be his.

C'mon, Devin says, it's one day of school, one practice—that's what he always says. With Devin, it's always one favor, just "this one time" or "una vez."

And then, it's "come on, homey, last time turned out fine" and it just spirals, not in a beautiful way like the ball leaving Saracen's hands and flying across the field to Smash, but in an ugly dive down, like the times Dev and Santiago climbed on top of the trailer and made paper airplanes and lit them on fire and dropped them, watching them flame out before they hit the dust. Stupid and pointless, and spiraling down. That was back in elementary school though—by the time they were eleven, they were hauling beer and cigarettes up, thinking they were little men.

None of that's in Santiago's head when he first sees Devin though. At that moment, the second he recognizes his "best" friend, he feels like the kid in a lame commercial, the one who gets picked up early from some sleepover and goes home where everything's safe and how it should be. It's why he will get in the car, after practice. He feels like he's gonna be rescued, like the best piece of home is reaching out to him, inviting him back. And even though home sucked most of the time, it's familiar, and it seems like what he deserves, far more than being some toy for Buddy Garrity to use to win his daughter's love and a few football games, some special project for the guidance counselor and coach.

He wavers for half a second, thinking how good it would be to listen to real MUSIC again at whatever volume he wants (his iPod isn't going to cut it forever), how good the sun would feel, and the air rushing around him, if they went riding. Thinks it would be a relief to blow off the half-frightened, half-pitying looks the people throw at the Mex-con (an insult whispered behind his back; it blends "Mexican" and "ex-con" into one word).

For a wavering second, he's almost ready to toss his lot in, throw away the books and the second chance. Cause damn, he's hanging by a thread here. He's working his ass off, and not seeing much immediate benefit, and he could go back and fit into the barrio, like he never left. He'll never know if that would've felt like home thought.

Because he turns a little, just enough to catch sight of the practice field fence and gate. And it's nothing corny about loving the green field and the game. He spends too much time getting his ass kicked on that field to love it for itself. It's not even like Coach is there watching him, not that second at least.

No, he decides to stick around. And then he catches sight of her and he feels like God just smiled and told him "right choice."

Which is pathetic. She's not really doing anything more complicated than walking, talking, and possibly chewing gum.

But damn, she makes all three of those activities look good.

He can't help watching Julie Taylor, with her long blond hair and dancer's walk. The girl is (according to Firecrotch) totally and completely off-limits in locker room talk, cause Coach Taylor will make you run till you puke. And it's not like anyone will yell at Coach—they'll figure you deserved worse.

This is Eric Taylor, who took the Panthers to State after a tragedy that changed lives. This is the man who left TMU to come back and save the season, because he loves Dillon that much. This season, even when the team's falling apart, Eric Taylor walks on water to the people in this town, especially to his team.

Coach Taylor gave Santiago a chance, and he doesn't intend to fuck it up.

But it's his daughter who reminds Santiago he's here at the school for a reason. She's got everything and nothing to do with him staying. She reminds him what he wants to be worthy of. So he stands firm, stays in school that day—and all the days after it, till he walks across a stage set up on the football field, wearing a cap and a gown. He wonders if he'll ever tell her about this choice. Probably not.

He's not made of stone; he gets in the car at the end of the day and cringes the first time he hears his football name the way the boys will. "Sandman." Jeez, it sounds like some white boy in a singing group in a black and white TV show.

And these guys didn't even see Buddy Junior get all excited trying to give him a comic book about a guy with that name, when it was just something Buddy Sr was calling him. He read the book, to be polite and all, but he hopes that no one sees him like that—Death's brooding little brother, Dream. But wouldn't you know Landry Clark saw the book in his bag and started chattering about the whole series (it figures that it's 10 books long and Landry owns them all) and now he is STUCK with "Sandman" for a football name.

It was a big joke to the team for about a week—broody comic book character, Sandman. And he was just starting to get hot under the collar about it, when some of the cute Rally Girls sent glittery card to invite the Sandman to send them dreams. The other boys grinned appreciatively and laid off about the name. They started asking what he's been hitting since he got out of juvie instead. And suddenly, he felt more like part of the team.

If he didn't know better, he'd swear that Riggins had put the girls up to it, but Riggs doesn't really like him enough to make his life easier, without trumping it up to Lyla. Loudly.

And, to each his own, but Santiago has a feeling St. Jude wouldn't intervene in a cause as lost as Tim Riggins and Lyla Garrity. She's a do-gooder and he's a good-for-nothing, and Santiago feels kind of sorry for Tim, cause he really seems to have some trouble getting the message Lyla's sending.

The only good thing about the party, Santiago decides afterward, while holding a steak to his face (Buddy's idea; it seems like a waste of food to Santiago), is that there's no way word of it will get back to the team, Lyla or Julie. No one here tonight goes to Dillon or really talks to people there. No one involved in his fresh start has to know about this—he's finally got the answer he needed about going back to the barrio (he's not doing it. Ever.) And maybe, just maybe, he can stop asking if he deserves this chance and just take it, hold onto it for dear life. And maybe that's a dream, but you know what? He's the Sandman. He'll dream whatever he wants.

Author's Notes: The Sandman comic book referenced here was written by Neil Gaiman. It's positively epic. It's also not the thing you find in every bookstore. I'm imagining that Pam Garrity's soccer-coaching beau gave it to Buddy Jr, and the kid shared it with Santiago. Cause I don't think there's any way Buddy Sr. is giving his son graphic novels. And, er, yes, some of the Sandman series is quite adult, especially those later in the series. Volume One is, as I remember it, safe enough, that it might be shared with a kid. And also, while we haven't been told Landry is into graphic novels, I made a creative leap.

Completed: February 18, 2008


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